Hanging by a Thread A Jonathan Crane Love Story
by XLuridXIllusionsX
Summary: After leaving the house that made her childhood a living hell, Scarlett makes her way to GU where she falls for a certain professor Crane, little does she know she fell in love with his monstrous alter ego first. Crane X OC (My first Jonathan Crane fic)
1. Prologue

-Prologue-

Picture this if you can, a white room with a white carpeted floor, this room is not very big and in it there is nothing more than a stripped bed with a thin cotton blanket thrown over the bare mattress. The one and only window is boarded up and the light that hangs from the ceiling is dim. Now in the corner, to the far left, sits a pathetic looking child, she is a girl with thin arms and legs and an awkward torso. Her auburn hair hides her pale face and in her hands she clings to a green pencil with a worn eraser and a thick black note book. This little girl is different from most children, but never by choice. Her life wasn't always a wreck. She wasn't always a prisoner in her own home.

No just two years before she was the apple of her father's eye. He was her best friend. Every night he would come home from work and he worked all the time...so when he got home that little auburn haired girl was the happiest child in the world. Every night he would let her sit in his lap or lay on his chest while he read her a fairy tale, something like Cinderella or Rapunzel. Never the less it was always a love story...always a happy ending. Her mother would often sing while doing the dishes, always a love song….something bitter sweet. The little girl would watch from the hallway while her mother leaned over the sink a gentle tune lulling from her lips. Still not once even on a holiday had she ever once seen her parents love one another...the way the people in the stories her father read to her loved one another. They never hugged or kissed or even said the words 'I love you' which her mother had always told her were too be kept for someone special.

Not even when her father was diagnosed with a brain tumor did her mother ever tell him she loved him. The little girl stood at her father's bed side and watched his eyes close in his last moments. After that day her life fell in shambles. Her mother had never worked a day in her life and so she found fast work and that little girls first real glimpse at what loving contact was revealed to her through a small crack in her mother's bedroom door. There was always a different man but the activity was always the same….her mother would throw her head back as large hands ran up her back. The small child would stand there fascinated, staring through wide blue eyes...she would hear her mother lull out the words 'I love you' almost every night but too a different man….every night...nothing like this ever came up in the stories her father read to her...so she questioned it...wondering if maybe those stories were wrong...after all isn't mother always right

_**Her answer came to her one night when her mother opened the door and let one of her boyfriends walk inside **__**before shutting the door. She learned than that the activity her mother engaged in every night was not loving...not pleasurable...not anything...but painful. That pathetic little girl laid there naked on her bed with tear stained cheeks and swollen lips complemented by bruised skin. She didn't understand back then that her mother was a prostitute or that she'd been sold for a quick buck and though it never happened again...she would never forget that night….because he was the first to touch her...to hold her even if it hurt...and she felt things that she didn't understand when it happened**__**...so she wrote it down...kept it close….love is ignorance...love is pain...love is torment…love is amazing….those were the words she wrote down on that first line...infatuation overtook her she was obsessed...and by the way...that naïve pathetic little girl...was me...**_


	2. Dread

Chapter One- Dread

"You're sure about this?" my mother asked softly drunkenly grabbing at my shoulder as I threw my clothes listlessly into the suitcase that was open on my bed. I'd been packing for a good two hours now and the truth in it was I didn't want to talk to her. She never wanted to talk to me and now it's too late too conversate.

Chewing a bit violently on my lower lip I slammed my suitcase shut and grabbed the handle, swinging it off the bed as I turned around on my heel walking out my bedroom door. I was done with my little twin sized bed that my feet dangled off and the plane white walls….boarded up windows...never going anywhere but school...I was done. "You're not even old enough to go to college!" she tried to argue forcing me to roll my hazel eyes.

"If you ever paid attention to me...mother" my tone was very sharp but I did not turn around or even look at her "You would know that I ended up getting a full paid scholarship...and that I've skipped two grades" honestly I always knew she was oblivious but she'd signed papers for this stuff. Her bony fingers gripped my wrist and for the first time all night looked at her over my shoulder. My mother was once a great beauty but meth and prostitution changes people. Her eyes that were once vibrant blue were hazy and sunken far into her paling face. Lips that were once full and pert were dry and cracking. Long red hair once fell in elegant curls all down her back clear to her waist...over time her hair had thinned and now resembles the hair of a stereotypical Halloween witch...she wasn't beautiful anymore.

"So...you'll just run off like this?"

"I don't want this life anymore" was all I could think to say before yanking my wrist free of her hand. It's not like I was supposed to feel bad...she was supposed to take care of me...not the other way around...ever. As I stepped out into the pouring rain I started to think about what a mother was. Supposedly I thought as I started my long walk down the street a mother is a source of comfort, someone you feel safe with, someone you can talk to, someone who teaches you about life...so far all my mother had done was give birth to me...the rest I figured out on my own.

My clothes soaked uncomfortably against my cold skin as I trudged down the road, moving toward the side every now and then when a car would speed by. Seeing as I'd lived in Gotham my entire life I knew it was never smart to be out at night...the city has quite the reputation for high risk crime. Still nothing in hell was going to keep me in that house a moment longer.

Strands of auburn hair clung to my wet cheeks as a car came to slow halt at my side, tires squealing as mud splashed over the tops of my black converse. Rolling my eyes I picked up pace and kept walking. I knew better than to talk to strangers. I'd learned that when I was about nine years old...there was a day when mom forgot to pick me up from school...so I got a ride from a 5'th grade teacher...Mr. Lazier...we'd never talked but I figured...he's a teacher...he won't hurt me. That was around four months after my mother sold my virginity. I remember sitting in the passenger seat of Mr. Lazier's car.

He was a nice man so I felt safe enough. He would tell me stories about his wife and kids while he drove me home and he'd play music that I liked...eventually it got to the point of him driving me home every day for 2 months...well one day...his daughter who was about my age was in the backseat...he was supposed to take her to ballet and then take me home. I remember making awkward conversation with Giselle but we were different kids...she was a bit on the prissy side, a real prima ballerina….and well I was always the kid that looked at little unkempt and smelled a little funny...no one had ever taught me how to really take care of myself.

We drove for what seemed like forever...I was starting to get confused because there was nothing around us anymore, no buildings, no fences, no people and hardly even another car. The lavender eyed blonde sitting in the backseat didn't seem to think much of it. She just went on about wanting something to eat "Daddy I'm hungry" she would whine every ten seconds and he would look up at his rearview mirror with gentle blue eyes that were more alert than usual and he would say in a gentle mono tone "It's alright, princess...mommy packed you a snack….you can eat it when you get to practice"

Finally the child said "I want it now!" in her defense we had been driving for somewhere around three hours. I started to look around...something felt off. He told me to hand his daughter the paper bag that rested near my sneakers on the car floor. Nodding in a manner that made my short hair dance over my hazel eyes I snatched it up and turned around slightly in the car seat handing it to her. It took everything I had not to throw it right at her chubby little face.

The blonde snatched the apple juice and PB&J right up out of the bag and started to smash the sandwich after poking the straw into the juice box. I honestly thought before that day….I'd seen everything a nine year old could see….I was so wrong. I'll never forget pulling into that remote field….and watching as Mr. Lazeir's eyes went from alert to something else...something I hadn't seen yet. The car stopped and he pulled something from the council between our seats. A gun. My pale hands flew up over my mouth. The first thing that crossed my mind was….Is he gonna kill me? The prima ballerina in the back did not notice the weapon in her fathers hand. He held a finger to his lips telling me to keep quiet.

My heart rate picked up...like never before and I felt all the blood drain from my face. Trying to calm my nerves I willed myself not to scream or cry or shake...I found myself staring at the gun in his hand. Something about that weapon kept me….interested. To this day I can't really explain it...but I couldn't take my eyes off of it...even when he blew a hole in his daughters head….when he blood and apple juice splattered all over the back seat….I found myself eyeing the gun...not even wondering….if I was next. Oddly enough he never hurt me...well...I never bled…just endured another round of what my mother's boyfriend put me through.

I wasn't focused on anything but the fact that he had a gun held to my head. Something pooled inside my stomach and it grew warmer and warmer the more I focused on the painful burn of the hot barrel against my forehead. I waited for him to pull the trigger ...I was almost ready for him too. He never pulled the trigger.

I was I could say that I remember every little detail of what happened but I only remember it in white flashes...I remember his finger on the trigger, the sound of his zipper coming down…the way my head fell lifelessly over the console forcing me to stare into the dead eyes of the nine year old in the back wearing the blood spattered tutu.

Though I can't remember much of that day...I remember that it hurt...that the car started to smell terrible and that my limbs felt heavy after he finished. He told me in a husky voice to "Stay quiet" and I did. My eyes stayed so fixated on that gun the entire time and I realized later in life what that feeling was...love…

I think the scariest part of that night was having to dig a hole...and drag the prima ballerina out of the car to hurtle into it. I remember watching her body hit the bottom of the hole, she was pale and blood stained her ivory skin. Than it occurred to me... she will never wake up again. Tears lined my hazel eyes only to be kissed away by a frantic Mr. Lazier as he soothed my hair back "Shh shh shh it's okay honey, don't cry. Shhh dont you cry. Were going home now and you...won't say a word okay….we'll both be in trouble so shhhh"

When I got back in the car very slowly he handed me a can of lemonade he'd had in the cup holder since we first left. "Drink some" was all he said and I obeyed...my heart was racing, beads of sweat rolled down my forehead and the thing was...I'd never felt better...as I took a long gulp of the lemonade my eyelids grew heavy. I don't remember the drive home. I do remember that when I got home I realized I probably should have been mortified instead I found myself writing in my notebook.

Heart speeds up….blood is warm...guns burn...love kills…

Dread is powerful…

So maybe I didn't learn not to talk to strangers...and though dread is a feeling I yearn for as an addict yearns for that last dose of heroin...I do not wish to die...I do not want too find myself like the prima ballerina...I do not want to be forgotten in such a way...and so I avoid situations I think could possibly put me in a hole in the ground...that is the only reason I walked away from the car when it slowed down. "Hey!" the young man behind the wheel yelled over the sound of the rain. I could hear his wipers going as I his car came to a loud halt "Its pouring! Where are you going...I'll give you a ride!"

Maybe...just one more time...to get out of the rain...I could risk one more ride. Turning around on my heel I trudged back over to the car and slid in beside an older gentleman who looked about thirty seven with blond hair and silvery eyes, dressed in a business suite. "Thanks, Gotham University, please" my voice was gentle as could be as we slowly made our way down the slippery street.


	3. Kissing Crows

Chapter Two- Kissing Crows

"So, whats you're name hun?" the man asked as I stared aimlessly out the window at the rain. I stayed silent as I had the last seven times he asked me. Honestly it was getting annoyed, I should have played mute from the first second. "C'mon, I am giving you a ride, you could at least tell me who I let in my car"

"Scarlett.." I hissed "My name is Scarlett"

"Such a pretty name"

"No, its not" I shot back immediately.

"Why do you say that?" his voice was smooth as we turned a corner "Its a beautiful name"

I rolled my hazel eyes and glanced over at him "My name is a reminder of my being an abomination….my mother named me after the Scarlett Letter….my middle name is Prynne as in Hester Prynne...now that you know the meaning...look me in the eye...and tell me how pretty it is….honestly" my tone was slow and my face entirely straight.

"How sad, I'm sure you're mother didn't mean it to be that way, after all that book is a very famous piece of literature" he was trying to reason with me. Geez...give me a break.

"Look I know how she meant it...okay" I snapped "She told me" the car came to a stop slowly right beneath the dim glow of a street light.

"If you were my daughter I wouldn't hurt you that way" he said slowly as bile pushed it's way up to my throat. What is with these men? My fingers prodded at the door slowly looking for the handle.

"Well...I'm not your daughter so it's really not your business" I wasn't afraid of this man...I was disgusted. His large hand ran up my knee sending uncomfortable shivers up my spine. With one swift move of my arm I sent my fist into his balls earning a loud pained howel from my attacker. As I pulled the handle back to open the door I watched him fall over the steering wheel wheezing in pain.

"Good for nothing pig" the words left my mouth as I slammed the door shut yanking my bag along as I started down the sidewalk. Better to be alone than to keep misery as company. I could hear him cursing my name and calling me a tease as he darted down the street. Glancing around at the buildings I looked for a sign to tell me where I was exactly. The fact that there was a Gotham University Barnes & Noble's just down the street told me I wasn't far from the campus.

"Alright…" a long screech escaped from the back of my throat as my body was thrown chest first against an alley wall. Whoever was behind me gave meaning the the phrase "Death grip" his hands forced my palms against the rigid brick wall as his body trapped mine in that spot.

"Shh" the sound was muffled as a lean figure darted past the alley way. Green hair against white skin was defined in the glow of the street light I had been standing under just a few moments ago. My latest attackers breathing as in sync with mine while the other man disappeared down the street screaming "SCARECROW!"

I felt my heart rate speed up and started to try to move my wrists but he didn't budge. "Are you a student?" his voice was raspy, cracked and low like that of a movie monster and it chilled me to the bone.

"N..no" my voice was a cracked whimper. I felt tears lining my eyes, I liked the adrenaline I felt running through my veins but at the same time I feared the breath I felt upon the back of my neck was that of death himself. Images of the prima ballerina flashed through my mind making me slightly dizzy. Her blood stained ivory skin, the red in her almost white hair, the cold fish eyes that overtook her once vibrant lavender orbs and the dirt closing around her lifeless body.

"No I'm not a student" I wasn't lying...I wasn't a student...not yet. His hand let go of my left and after a second of what sounded like rummaging through his pocket held his palm to my mouth and nose. When I felt a powdery content against my lips I held my breath, Inhaling could be bad if it were some kind of dangerous drug.

"Open your mouth" he growled at my ear in that monstrous tone. My cheeks went pink as my heart raced, Taking a risk I bit into the little bit of his palm I could pinch between my teeth. He hissed through his teeth and put a hand between my shoulder blades slamming my body against the alley wall hard, putting a small amount of distance between us. Soft labored breaths escaped my lips as I gathered my composure.

I turned my body around before he could grab me again. My hazel eyes went wide as dinner plates. He wore a mask, burlap from the looks of it and a grey pinstripe suit. The mask was stitched up in certain places and through small holes I could make out the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

"You...are.." something filled his eyes that I couldn't make out...confusion maybe "blushing?" his tone made it a question "Why are you…"

My tone came out shaky "Stay back!" it echoed back to me and his eyes widened just a bit "I swear….just stay back please!" something was fogging up my mind. Damn it I'd probably gotten some of that powder on my tongue.

In one long stride he was at my chest, staring down at me through the eyes of that burlap mask. "Are you the grim reaper?" my tone was a whimper. Everything was numb, my body trembled and the world around me was dark….I felt isolated, invisible like a ghost only he could see. It was like walls closing in around me….god was I dying? Was it poison dissolving on my tongue?

My hands moved aimlessly on their own and gripped the lapels of his dress coat until my ivory knuckles went paperwhite. "Why are you blushing?" he asked again his voice still that of a monster, a nightmare...maybe this was a nightmare.

"Are you going to kill me?" I could hear the softness of my voice and it was almost unreal. I felt so disconnected. The overwhelming urge to seek out the source of my emotions was all that filled my head as it overtook the fear of dying. I needed something. He was the source...I knew that...so why...why was I so unsatisfied.

"No..not with that look on your face" he said breathlessly, I could hear the hitch in his breathing mid sentence...something had left him at a loss for words. At that moment I wished I could see my own face.

"Whats wrong with my face?" I whispered now breathless myself. Every part of me wanted to run away but I wasn't fast and I knew he'd catch me.

"I'm trying to figure that out" was his blunt response.

"You drugged me!" my voice raised the second my mind processed the thought "WHAT WAS THAT POWDER?"

He grabbed me roughly by the wrist and stared down at me through blue eyes "Are you not afraid of me?" that tone struck me to my core.

"Yes, I'm terrified" I admitted but couldn't help the fleeting smile that swept across my full lips. Dread; oh how I loved it.

"Yet you say it with a smile" he stated pointedly almost angry but confused all at once.

"I'm not like most people" was all I could think to say but his grip loosened so it must have been the right thing to say.

"Will you let me go" I asked quietly

"Do you enjoy being scared….like an adrenaline junkie?" his tone said he knew he was probably off. No adrenaline junkie would react to this situation the way I was at the moment. If he didn't sound like some kind of growling beast he would of sounded like a psychiatrist.

"I...I just handle fear different" I knew by now that I was messed up. After all many people had told me and I'd seen enough T.V. to know what normal love was...now...but it was just too late by the time I figured out how my peers were supposed to do things...those ways were not conventional for me...they did nothing. Thats why I write it all down...every experience...I want a name for my kind of love….not just confusion…

"You like fear?" he asked again in disbelief.

I swallowed hard I wasn't one to lie and so far honesty was golden with him and so I took a deep breath "Fear is incredible"

"You are strange...what did you see earlier?" he was still holding onto my wrist.

"I didn't see anything I just felt like I was dying" I said very slowly "Its the um...only thing I'm actually what most would call 'terrified' of" the conversation was still tense...I had no idea what to do at this point. I couldn't run...it would be a waste of energy and he wasn't trying to kill me at the moment.

"What do you see looking at me….what do you see when you look at...my mask"

"Honestly?" I questioned raising an eyebrow at him.

"Of course…" I could almost hear the frown in his voice even if it was being tweaked to sound like a monster.

"You're eyes" my tone was blunt as I stared up at him through a curtain of dark lashes.

"My eyes?" he questioned.

"Yeah their blue"

"I know what color they are" he snapped making me jump a bit.

His hands gripped my shoulders roughly as he stared down into my eyes...my mind drifted and I began to wonder what the rest of his face looked like with such beautiful blue eyes. "Get that look off your face" he hissed sliding his hands down my arms a bit too grip them right at the crook of each elbow.

"What look?" my voice was breathless and my eyes wide once again. I had no clue what he was talking about and then a question spurred from the back of my throat "Why do you keep asking me questions?"

"I am curious about your reaction" was all he said "I've never had anyone react that way to my toxins before now."

"Whats the point of the toxin?" I asked pursing my lips.

"To scare you senseless" he was brief. Again something pooled deep inside of me. This man was more intimidating than anyone I'd ever met before and maybe it was because he had no face but...that intimidation was driving me insane.

"So….fear interests you?" I questioned very carefully not wanting to anger him or ask anything too stupid. A gust of wind moved through my auburn hair making me shiver as the now light rain plopped little water droplets against my ivory cheeks.

"It defines me" again he was brief and his tone had come down from that of a monster to being more subtle. His voice was like a liquid velvet.

So he's like me. "Will you please let me go now?" I asked gently even though I was beginning to question whether or not I wanted to go back to reality. I liked standing in front of someone who understood me. Someone like me. I had no idea there was someone else like me.

"Don't count on it" his tone was different not soft not monstrous just calm "I'm rather curious about you" when his grip on my arms tightened it sent a jolt through my body. He was closer now, too damn close...I felt like his eyes could see into my soul...like he could see every bad thing I'd ever done I felt so naked….so exposed and he only got closer "are you afraid of me?"

"Terrified" I whispered in response as rough burlap met my lips and somehow it was the most comfortable thing I'd ever felt. I kissed back needily even though it hurt and I could feel my lips going raw from constant movement against the rough material of the mask. I was scared when his nails dug into my arms, I groaned when I felt them move down my waist and up underneath the back of my hoodie.

This was torture...I was intimidated...needy and comfortable all at once and for the first time I was more mixed up than ever. I'd never found myself lost in a kiss before or even focused on the contact...I always focused on the pain but there was no object ready to do me any serious harm except for him….not seeing this man who was so like me ever again...would do me serious harm and in knowing that….I found myself lost in the arms of my dangerous new affliction. Hot tears lined my hooded eyes….it was overwhelming...it was...too much

-Authors Note-

I am extremely wishy-washy about this chapter. Scarlett's character is very confused and ill. She is hard to write. I do hope you all enjoyed it and yes their relationship is supposed to be very catastrophic and fast paced, both characters are sick in the head and after living lives of misery have just found one person in the world that is like them and they are clinging to that, for Crane it is the curiosity for this girl who is aroused and compelled by fear and intimidation and for Scarlett it is someone who shares this fascination with fear and understands her. R&R Please and thank you.


	4. Someone like me

~Authors Note~

I am sorry, I did not expect this chapter to take so long. I did finally get some feedback on this fic and I am excited for that. However I do want to know if you guys like this fic. Please give me a little feedback. I will try to update Bittersweet memories and Crane's Harlequinade this weekend my lovelies.

Chapter Three- Someone like me

Dark circles hung under my eyes as I trudged up the front porch steps of Gotham University. Last night seemed like some kind of insane dream. I couldn't remember much, my stomach hurt something awful and I had a throbbing headache. If I were one to drink I would blame it on some kind of hang over.

The sky overhead was grey and the air bitter. Lucky for me it wasn't sunny because I was almost sure the light would just burn. I had to of fallen asleep in that alley last night. It was possible after all I was really tired...still didn't explain what I was doing in an alley. 'Are you a student?' his voice filled my head in a hot flash of memories, being slammed against the alley wall, his hand over my mouth, that powder….it was unreal and for that reason I dismissed the entire 'scarecrow' thing as a dream...just a dream. Still I couldn't help but wish I could find that man again….whoever he was...deep inside I knew I could not just push him off as a dream for my lips which were raw from the burlap of his mask were proof of the encounter. I must be crazy...well I know that I'm crazy….still...that person...that monster...that madman...may be the only other person like me in the world and part of me just wanted to hold onto the fact that he exists. Wonder if he's as lonely as me...

Exhaling I wandered up into the school's main hallway. Trying to ignore the constant pounding in my head I groaned and glanced around at the people who would be my peers. "Oh great" my tone came out quiet and displeased as an over excited blue eyed blond ran at me with the biggest smile on her full lips. Pretty. Pretty slutty. Long lashes batted as a Brooklyn accent spilled over pink lips "Hey'ya!" she practically sang in my ear making every fiber of my body cringe.

"Hi" in truth I wasn't usually so irritable but she was just too much and it was too freakin early in the day. Her top was a bit low cut, pert ivory breasts spilled over the brim as her blond hair fell over her shoulders. She really was a pretty girl but she left me with a light chill, if that prima ballerina had grown up she would have looked a lot like this girl, I was willing to bet my life on that.

"You must be new cause I know everybody but not you" she chimed poking my nose too emphasize the word 'you'

"yeah, I'm new" I mumbled backing up three paces "My names Scarlett...please back up"

"Scarlett huh?" she blew a rather large pink bubble which splattered all over her full lips with a loud 'pop'. Her skilled tongue went to work removing the sticky residue from her mouth "You look kinda young"

"I skipped a few grades" I muttered crossing my arms over my chest.

"Ah, so ya must be really smart" The blonde cocked an eyebrow at me "Cool, you can call me Harley, everyone does"

Harley ended up taking me to guidance where I was happy to find little miss Quinzel was not my roommate but a young lady named Pamela Isley filled that position. When Harley saw my schedule she proceeded to tell me how wonderful yet strange Pamela could be. I watched her compare our schedules. This was done for a good ten minutes with a big goofy smile on her face. It turned out that Harley and I had the first class of the day together. Psychology.

I followed Harley into the room looking around at the bored faces of early students. "HEY TEACH!" Harley yelled in a most obnoxious tone "Lookie here Dr. C!" I was suddenly hauled to front of the room where a thin dark haired man was writing across the board in chalk...his handwriting looked like chicken scratch. "Lookie!" She chimed once more gripping my arm to pull me in front of her "This is Scarlett, she's new" her voice was right at my ear making me shiver with irritation.

"Very good, Mz. Quinzel..have a seat…take your friend with you" he had not yet turned to look at me. I watched with some irritation as he scratched the word "Pharmacology" across the chalkboard. "What's that teach?" Harley asked tipping her head to the side as she twirled a strand of my short auburn hair around her index finger.

"Its the study of fear, Harl" I muttered rolling my eyes before jerking my head away from her.

Professor crane nodded "Very good Ms…" He seemed like a pretty simple guy. Not all that tall or broad shouldered. Nothing too interesting about him. Just a teacher. I made a decision to be as uninterested in him as he was in me. After all he hadn't even turned around to look at me yet.

"Thank you professor" I mumbled almost hatefully before moving to turn around. Harley's lips contorted into a childish pout "Todays lesson is gonna be sooo boring"

I half laughed softly "Nuh uh, Harls, Fear is incredible" the toes of my converse were just off the platform that was raised up from the rest of the floor like a step when he made me jump.

"Wait" His voice was flat and almost frantic. Slowly I turned myself around on my heel. When our eyes met I found that he was staring at me. Wide blue eyes focused on my pale face, he almost looked mortified. A little bit of offense showed on my face. I knew I wasn't as attractive as Ms. Quinzel over here and I even kind of looked like a boy but there was no need for such a disgusted response. What a prick. I raised an eyebrow at him and stared at him through a curtain of dark lashes and the lenses of my glasses.

Parting my lips slowly I asked quite abruptly "Is there a problem, Professor?" I could tell by the look on his face when he raised his eyebrows that he did not like my tone.

"No, Ms?" He turned back to his desk and chewed his lower lip skimming the roster "Rovuesu...Scarlett...Go and take a seat" I crossed the room slowly. My head drifted back to the look on his face….those blue eyes. I'd seen them before.


End file.
